Like Chickens in a Temporal Causality Loop
by qwertygal
Summary: In their world of shifting timelines and shaky cause effect relationships, what's the Time Team to do except stick by each other...and have faith that the rest will eventually work itself out? Set in the "unknown" season 2-writing began long before we had promos or interviews or set photos...**so contains NO Season 2 Spoilers**
1. Chapter 1

_A/N - Started writing this quite a while ago, so it is firmly set in the imaginary Season 2 we have all been exploring for over a year. Absolutely no season 2 spoilers! Rated T just to be safe on the language front._

 _As always, I own absolutely none of it!_

* * *

 _Consider a world in which cause and effect are erratic. Sometimes the first precedes the second, and sometimes the second the first. Or perhaps cause lies forever in the past while effect in the future, but future and past are entwined._ -Alan Lightman

 _Time Travel offends our sense of cause and effect – but maybe the Universe doesn't insist on cause and effect._ -Edward Lerner

 _Which came first, the chicken or the egg?_ -Anon*

* * *

May 10, 1849

New York City

This was bad. _This was very, very bad._ How had she not anticipated this? They should have stayed downtown, gone the other direction….and now—

Lucy's thoughts were interrupted as she was shoved to the ground by a group of young men trying to storm the stately building on the other side of the street. She tried to regain her footing, but the crowd was thick….and it was dark. And, with the noise of the yelling—it was like being lost at sea, she didn't know which way was up. But this sea was made of a mass of swarming men, pushing ever forward. And she knew it was a mere matter of seconds before the militia on the other side of that street started pushing back….and she _had_ to get to her feet to avoid getting caught in the impending whirlpool of humanity….

And then there was a hand, reaching toward her, grasping her elbow, providing the leverage that she needed.

"Wyatt?!"

"I got you." He pulled her the rest of the way to her feet, wrapping her in his arms as he tried to push his way through the crowd in the opposite direction of the Astor House.

"Where's Rufus?"

"He's over there—trying to find a side street that isn't blocked—trying to find a way out.

She could tell Wyatt was yelling….and yet she could barely hear him over the din created by the men around her. Still wrapped in Wyatt's arms, they moved forward—inching closer to where Rufus was supposed to be. But by moving in the opposite direction of the mob, their progress was slow. She craned her neck around, trying to see where the militia line was forming….they had to stay out of the range of fire.

There was a loud bang to their left—not a rifle, but something ominous enough to send the crowd of people in that direction roiling toward them. She almost went down again, as a tumbling man slammed against her. Somehow, Wyatt kept them upright, until they reached a small alcove in a brick wall beside the street.

And somehow, Rufus was there—he had found them.

"Any way out?" Wyatt asked.

"Not that way—crowds are more than ten deep in spots….and they don't seem very happy."

Lucy saw Wyatt's arm flying toward her then, as he kept both her and Rufus pressed against the brick wall, as someone pushed by with a loaded wheelbarrow. He turned toward Lucy, "Is this Rittenhouse? I thought you said Carol came here because of the hospital being built for the cholera epidemic?"

"I know….that's what I thought. I don't think she's here because of this….I mean…..maybe….maybe? But _this_ —this isn't Rittenhouse."

There was a smattering of gun shots in the distance.

"Then what the hell is this, Lucy?" asked Wyatt.

"The Astor Place Riot," she supplied, "I just….I just didn't think….I forgot….and we've managed to walk right into it—"

"The Astor Place Riot?" Rufus asked. "Never heard of it."

"Also known as the Shakespeare Riot."

"Wait, the what now?" he asked.

Suddenly Wyatt was standing _very_ close to her, as a small mob of people came crashing toward them, he angled his body, which resulted in keeping the mob from crushing her against the wall….and also resulted in his shoulder and side being pressed up against her chest. She watched as he scanned the crowd to their left.

Things went hazy for a minute—and she wasn't sure if it was the crushing crowd or Wyatt's crushing closeness. She realized that Rufus was still staring at her. What had he asked her? Something historical? _Oh….right_.

"It started with this….rivalry….between two actors," she said.

"You've got to be kidding me." Rufus shook his head.

"No…..William Charles Macready, he was this famous British Shakespearean actor, and he had this major rivalry with American actor Edwin Forrest….it started out like a publicity stunt….it was good for business….but then things started getting more serious. Macready appealed to the upper class, while Forrest appealed to other New Yorkers—"

"Holy Shit!" Rufus shoved her sideways—and she dragged Wyatt with her—as heavy objects began raining down on them from the window above their alcove.

"What are those?" Rufus asked.

"Bricks," she said.

"Bricks?" said Wyatt.

"That was one of the primary weapons of the riot," she explained. At first, some of Forrest's supporters decided to storm the play house—throw eggs at Macready, that sort of thing. But word started spreading through the city that Macready's upper class fans were trying to spread British values….to stomp out the "Americans"….so the Forrest supporters found themselves joined by scores of men from gangs of the Five Points neighbourhood—"

"Wait," moaned Rufus, "Five Points' gangs? Like in the movie _Gangs of New York_ gangs?"

"Well….I mean, that movie was highly dramatized….practically fictionalized—"

Another brick smashed the wall behind them—she saw it hit, just inches from Wyatt's head. But, yes," she nodded, "That's them." She motioned to the crowd around them, "This is practically all them, in fact. And that was why things got….out of hand."

"Okay," she heard Wyatt's voice no-nonsense now. "I'm not going to have us get crushed against this wall on my watch. We need to get back toward the middle of the crowd, hopefully move _with_ them….and find a way off this street. This way."

He gave Lucy's arm a gentle tug, and she followed along behind him, Rufus grabbing at her coat so that they wouldn't get separated. She suspected they looked like the world's oddest conga line.

"So….you said things got out of hand?" she heard Rufus' voice form just behind her. "Like more out of hand than this already is? What happened next?"

They had paused again, not by choice….there was just nowhere to go amongst all the people. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, to force the growing feelings of dread from being crowded—dread of being in a tight spot—away.

"So, the mob decides to storm the theatre—but the police are ready—the theatre was reinforced—windows were barred….and the militia was stationed a few blocks away. That's them there," she pointed to the other side of the road. "They marched on the theatre at the first sign of trouble…."

Wyatt turned quickly to face her, "So you're telling me we've got an unruly crowd throwing bricks at armed militia men right now?"

She nodded quickly.

"Fantastic." He shook his head, "This is bad guys—can anyone see an exit possibility?"

"Wyatt," she said, "Pretty soon the riot is gonna hit a tipping point and….the militia will open fire on the crowd. More than twenty are killed….way more are wounded."

"All this because of a Shakespeare performance?" Rufus twisted around, trying to avoid a punch that was thrown by a random man from behind him.

"The actors, they were like proxies for the opposite sides of the class divide—"

A rifle went off, far too close for comfort.

"—but, yeah….it was started because of a play." she said.

"Okay, that's it." she could tell Wyatt had had enough. "Lucy—which way do we run? Where do you think we'll be safest?"

Lucy was about to reply when a shoving match broke out between three drunk men beside her. One of them careened into her shoulder, and she felt herself stumbling backward again, somehow ending up in Wyatt's arms. She whispered her thanks, and he helped her stand.

"Well," she began, "There's no way the crowd will think we're with them—look at the way we're dressed? I mean, we needed to be Upper Class New Yorkers…." she shot an apologetic look at Rufus, "and servant, for the hospital….but now it practically brands us as Macready supporters!"

Another crowd member bowled into them at that moment, apparently thrown by two men. Lucy stepped back to avoid him, and kept talking. "So, we should run toward the militia….they should let us pass, protect us….

Wyatt rubbed the back of his neck. "Sure—except, I've been in enough mob scenes to know that people's perceptions of what side you're on are all well and good….until the bullets start flying. Then all bets are off.

"Good to know," said Rufus.

Wyatt nodded. "And, even before we worry about that, our first problem is that we're on the total opposite side of the road to where we should be to reach the theatre. And with a throng of incensed people….who you've just admitted will already think we're against them….between us and that building.

There was a crack from another rifle, and a series of screams rose from the crowd. The renewed shoving created a slight break in the crowd, and Lucy felt Wyatt push her forward as he seemed to decide to jump on that opportunity. He pushed her steadily forward—moving the team further away from the militia.

"Okay," he began, "So—new plan. There is no way we are getting to the other side of this road before the real shooting starts…..so we're going to run north, instead….back to the Lifeboat. We're close, right?"

Rufus looked thoughtful. "Well—it's certainly doable, but it's still a distance away, maybe we'd be better off—"

Another gun fired. "Actually, that Lifeboat plan sounds good to me."

"Me too!"

Okay, on my count, he grabbed Lucy's hand in a strong grip. One, two, three and they started racing toward the North part of the square, where thankfully the crowds were smaller. Lucy still felt like a pin ball though, bouncing from one crowd-member to another, and her costume skirts certainly weren't helping matters any….but Wyatt's hand holding hers tightly was a reassuring presence.

They were making some progress, Lucy noted. The crowd seemed to be swelling in the opposite direction…..toward the theatre. She could feel her breathing ease with every step as the crowd became less packed, and the team moved away from the larger mob, able to move faster and faster. They'd hit the first crossroad just as a cacophony erupted behind them.

The militia had opened fire.

"Just keep moving," Wyatt's voice came over the clamour of gun shots and screams.

As they moved past the first blocked road, they were able to break into a jog—until they were forced to a standstill as they bowled around the corner to come face to face with twenty angry looking men….carrying torches and wheelbarrows of bricks.

There was a split second where the two parties stared at each other. Then Lucy's heart sank as the men gave them the once over….and she knew they had noticed the wardrobe thing. Then the gang started picking up the bricks from the wheelbarrow.

"Ahhhh…..crap," she heard Rufus behind her.

And then the men started throwing the bricks.

Wyatt yanked them backward, back the way they had come.

"Where are we going now?" she asked.

"This way," she caught Wyatt's mutter just as he pulled them off the road, racing toward a stone garden wall.

"They're still coming," Rufus yelled.

And he was right, as the unruly group had turned the corner and was now moving toward them.

She felt Wyatt release her hand. She turned toward him, and saw that he had woven his fingers together in a basket shape, and was holding them at her knee level….and looking at her expectantly.

"Over?" she squeaked.

He nodded. "We'll be right behind you."

Fear was flickering through her now—she glanced backward, seeing the gang still steadily moving toward them. Sucking in a breath, she put her foot in Wyatt's hands—

—and she was momentarily airborne. Luckily she was able to think fast enough to twist her body as she moved over the wall and into the unknown, and was able to tuck and roll as she hit the ground that was luckily mostly soft dirt. Thank goodness.

She heard scrabbling and scraping behind her, and turned to see Wyatt and Rufus both scrambling over the wall.

"Let's go," she called, and she led her team out of the garden toward the closest street.

"Hold up," Wyatt called, once she hit the quiet track. She turned back, seeking out his eyes.

"We're okay now," he began, "It won't be worth it to them, to follow us here—they'll just head back to the theatre."

"Uh….Wyatt?" Rufus said, pointing back in the direction from which they had come, "Wanna re-think that thought?"

Lucy pulled her attention away from Wyatt and back to the stone wall they had just scaled. She could see hands….and then heads and shoulders above the wall…. Rufus was right; the men were most definitely still following them.

All three were looking at the wall, by the time the first of the gang members had cleared the top of the fence.

"Ahhh, crap" they all said. In unison.

At least the roads on this side of the wall were completely clear. The trio spun back around, and started racing in the general direction of the dilapidated barn where they had hidden the Lifeboat.

These boots were _not_ made for walking….or running, thought Lucy for the umpteenth time that evening, but she picked up the pace to keep up with the boys, as a quick glance behind her proved that yes, indeed….they were being chased by a sizeable Five Points gang, carrying torches and bricks….and who knew what other weapons.

"This way," came a shout in front of her. _Rufus_ —suddenly steering the team sideways, into a long narrow drive shed.

"We should be able to get out the other side, cut through the livery stable….and then we'll be less than a block from the Lifeboat."

"Should be able to?" asked Wyatt. But by then, it was too late; they had entered the darkened shed.

Without even looking, Lucy knew the gang was still in hot pursuit. They reached the other end of the shed—where there was a wide carriage door….and it was open.

"Thank goodness," she said, hiking up her skirts and continuing to race toward the safety of the Lifeboat.

"See?" said Rufus.

Wyatt had paused to watch for their oncoming pursuers for a split second, then raced to catch up.

"How did you know that? You got GoogleMaps there?"

"Just paying attention."

"Thank goodness," Wyatt repeated.

Lucy glanced behind again, "They are still coming!"

"Keep running," encouraged Wyatt, "Through the livery stable—the barn's on the other side."

They raced through the stables, and out the other side. They were so close now—"

Rufus was racing alongside her now, and he turned back briefly.

"Uh….guys? The gang coming at us? They just grabbed a bunch of pitch forks from the stable."

"What are you talking about?" asked Wyatt.

"I'm just saying….now the angry mob is _literally_ chasing us with torches and pitchforks…."

"Ah….," said Wyatt. "Run faster!"

She could make out the barn in front of them now—they were almost there. It was only then, in sight of the barn, that she realized….

"Wait! We can't run to the Lifeboat. The men chasing us….they'll see it. That can't—"

"Sorry Luce, but I'm really not caring about that at this point," said Wyatt.

She was about to argue….but realized she _had_ no argument.

The team dashed into the barn. The Lifeboat was there. Wyatt was the first to reach it, and scrambled up the side, opening the door.

There was shouting outside—it was pandemonium—there was no question that the mob was almost upon them.

"1842 is officially going on the list of time periods that suck," said Rufus.

Wyatt yanked her through the Lifeboat portal, just as the first of the pitchfork and torch wielding gang members entered the barn. They were granted a few seconds more advantage as the men stepped back in shock at the sight in front of them. It was just enough time to close the door.

Rufus was at the controls, setting the coordinates, and Lucy was once again battling with her seat restraints….when a loud bang made her jump. Before she had the chance to ask a question, there was another, and another.

"Is that…."

Wyatt nodded at her, "Bricks. They're pelting the Lifeboat with bricks."

"But….but they can't get in, right?"

Rufus nodded, still at the controls.

"And the bricks can't hurt the ship, right? Right?"

Rufus remained frighteningly silent as he continued to work his controls. The clamour outside somehow became louder.

Wyatt leaned forward, clicking the buckles of her restraints in place...she had forgotten.

"We gotta go Rufus," Wyatt said.

"It's time!" agreed Lucy.

* * *

Those words were still echoing in her head as she once again found herself hurtling through time and space, or through the space time continuum, or through whatever it was they were hurtling themselves through, whenever it felt like her insides were in a blender. A stray thought crossed her mind—someday she was really going to have to read that physics text Rufus had recommended, to better understand the mechanics of what they were actually doing. But never having been one to meet a book she didn't want to read, she also suspected the fact that she _hadn't_ yet read the book meant that she really _didn't_ want to know the ins and outs of time travel….which she supposed meant that her previous thought was incorrect, and that in fact there _was_ a book she didn't want to read. And then she wondered if that thought meant a major adjustment to her self-concept was in order, or if she could consider it just a minor flutter in her self-knowledge in the name of self-preservation….and then she realized that the Lifeboat had stilled, that she was feeling upright in space again, with gravity seemingly back to behaving the way it should.

She opened her eyes slowly—she always seemed to close them during jumps—to find Wyatt grinning back at her, as he always seemed to be, when she opened her eyes after a jump.

"Made it," he said.

"With seconds to spare," she heard Rufus grumble.

She unfastened her restraints, leaning forward in her seat to let her stomach settle. "Glad to be here." she said.

Rufus opened the Lifeboat hatch, and the three started their usual disembarkment. Lucy watched as Wyatt went first—giving a hand to Rufus, who, after their most recent experience, was in even more of a hurry than usual to see Jiya. She decided to hang back, not wanting to stand in his way. Gathering her skirts in her hands, she was just preparing to exit when she heard Agent Christopher's unmistakable voice from beyond the Lifeboat hatch in the docking hangar.

"Welcome back," Christopher said, "Glad to see you managed to get back safely from this mission. I'm never a fan of breaking up the band, but it couldn't be helped—"

Only just beginning to process Christopher's strange words, Lucy stuck her head and shoulders out of the Lifeboat hatch, preparing to take Wyatt's proffered hand of assistance. At that very moment Christopher abruptly stopped speaking.

And then, a whole bunch of things seemed to happen at once.

There was a clattering of metallic clicking from all over the room; shouts of surprise seemingly from everywhere; and something firm, hitting Lucy's torso, forcing her backwards, onto the Lifeboat floor.

"Ooof." Sprawling between the seats, the blasted skirts twisting and tangling about her legs, she was stunned for a moment….then she suddenly realized that it had been _Wyatt_ who had shoved her backward. Wyatt—who seemed to now be blocking the Lifeboat hatch with his body. She braced herself with her hands against two of the seats, and pulled herself onto her knees, to peer over Wyatt's shoulder at the scene outside the Lifeboat in the docking hangar.

The source of the metallic clatter became clear, as she realized that every security officer in the place, and even a few techs, had drawn and readied their weapons...and they were all trained on her.

Gasping, she pulled further back, ducking her head and pressing it against Wyatt's back, but not before she had seen Agent Christopher, service weapon drawn, her face a mix of anger and exasperation.

The look on Christopher's face had filled Lucy with concern, but that concern was nothing compared to the dread that quickly followed—caused by the Agent's next clipped statement.

"What have you two done now?"

* * *

 _AN It's too bad we can't use a cool graphic to indicate the opening episode credits….I think they'd fit really well here! Maybe if everyone just hums the theme in your minds—you know, DUH duh duh duh, DUH duh duh duh? And then, of course, use the box to let me know what you think._


	2. Strangers in a Strange Timeline

_A/N Okay—so as mentioned before, the bulk of this was written before Season 2 premiered….therefore we are set mostly at the very not-blown-up Mason Industries. shrug I had briefly thought of doing a re-write, to get the bunker into this plot—multiple timelines allow for that kind of finagling—but decided that it just made it all too complicated….so just went back to MI as a setting. Just pretend you haven't seen S2 ep1 yet!_

* * *

 _From Chapter 1:_

 _The source of the metallic clatter became clear, as she realized that every security officer in the place, and even a few techs, had drawn and readied their weapons...and they were all trained on her._

 _Gasping, she pulled further back, ducking her head and pressing it against Wyatt's back, but not before she had seen Agent Christopher, service weapon drawn, her face a mix of anger and exasperation._

 _The look on Christopher's face had filled Lucy with concern, but that concern was nothing compared to the dread that quickly followed—caused by the Agent's next clipped statement._

 _"_ _What have you two done now?"_

* * *

Chapter 2:

"Seriously, if you thought I was pissed at your last stunt….what do you think you're doing! Bringing back someone from the past? There better be a good explanation….no, you know what, there _is_ no explanation for this that could possibly be construed as _good_." Throughout Agent Christopher's diatribe, she had walked closer to the Lifeboat, until was standing only a few feet in front of Wyatt.

Rufus stared at the Agent; trying valiantly to move his lips….but was painfully aware that nothing was coming out. _What the hell was going on?_

Then Christopher sighed. "But, given what's done is done….get her out of there….and somebody better start talking….now."

Rufus moved toward the Lifeboat, about to help Lucy out, but stopped when he saw Wyatt, still blocking the Lifeboat hatch, and wearing about the most dangerous expression Rufus had ever seen on his friend.

"No," Wyatt said, staring Agent Christopher down.

"That's an order, Sergeant."

"No. Not until every weapon in this place is lowered."

Rufus stepped back, looking quickly between Wyatt's fixed gaze and Christopher's face, set with anger.

 _Seriously, what the hell was going on?_ He stepped between them, holding his hands up in placation. "Come on guys, let's just….calm down. I mean….it's just Lucy…. _Lucy_ ….so let's all just chill for a minute."

"Rufus," he heard Wyatt murmur in a warning tone.

A familiar gasp sounded from his left, and he stepped back in shock, eyes frantically seeking its source—until he saw her. Jiya. She stood on the opposite side of the bank of computers, beside the also familiar whirligig. He took another step back, as he realized her eyes were as wide with fear and shock as everyone else's.

Quickly losing any confidence he had previously possessed in the situation, he heard the shakiness in his voice as he implored, "She's with us….she's time team…." He trailed off, watching the Christopher-Logan standoff continue. He turned back around then, seeking out Jiya's eyes once again. She met his gaze quickly—this time with a clear question in her gaze. He shrugged slightly, and turned back toward the Lifeboat.

"Lower. The. Weapons." Wyatt nearly growled.

Rufus watched as Christopher continued to glare at Wyatt for another moment, and then shook her head. "I don't have time for this. Everybody, at ease." Only about half of the people in the room complied. She spun around, "That means weapons down, people!" This time there was a smattering of mutters as the rest of the weapons were lowered.

She turned back, to face the Lifeboat. "Better, Logan?"

"Better," his stance became less rigid, "But I'm not letting her out of there until _all_ weapons are down," he stared pointedly at Christopher's own sidearm.

Shaking her head again, she holstered her weapon.

"Rufus," Wyatt said, quietly, "Eyes." Then he turned, beginning to help Lucy out of the Lifeboat.

Praying that his interpretation of Wyatt's message was correct—that he was asking him to watch his back—he turned to properly face Christopher and the rest of the MI staff, giving them his best impression of Wyatt's own 'Don't mess with me' glare.

He heard, rather than saw, Lucy's exit of the Lifeboat—between the rustling of her ridiculous skirts and the renewed gasps from the crowd….it was pretty obvious that she was now standing in the docking hangar. He let himself turn back to his team mates, noting that Wyatt hadn't left Lucy's side, and was still standing slightly in front of her, half-shielding her from the others in the room.

Lucy's eyes were wide and red-rimmed, and he saw a slight shake in her hand that grasped tightly onto Wyatt's shoulder from behind.

Christopher, he noted, as he turned back to keep Jiya in his field of view, still held Lucy in her steady gaze, slowly circling around her, like a predator stalking prey.

"Where are you from?" she asked. "Are you from the past?"

"No," said Lucy, "I mean, that's where I….we….literally just _came_ from….but I'm not fro…." she trailed off.

"Did these….gentlemen," she nodded between Rufus and Wyatt, then turned much kinder eyes toward Lucy, "Bring you here to save you from something, or from someone?"

"No!" she said, "Well, I mean we were being chased….but it's not like that."

Rufus saw Christopher's eyes widen in surprise. "Did they bring you here against your will?"

"What? No!"

"I think," Christopher said, taking a step toward the staircase, "I think it's best if the two of us go have a chat, up in my office."

Lucy moved as though to follow her, until Wyatt placed his hand on her upper arm.

"Luce—you don't need to answer any questions you don't want to," he gazed back at Agent Christopher, who appeared as though she were about to argue that point, "And you are most definitely not going anywhere without me."

 _That was it—this was getting out of control_. Rufus stepped forward, so that Lucy was now completely hidden from Christopher again, behind both of her team mates. "Look, this is getting ridiculous," Rufus craned his neck back toward Wyatt, "I mean jeez man, what's with all the Dirty Harry crap?" even though he knew his analogy wasn't quite right, to describe Wyatt's unusual behavior. "And you guys," he turned back to look at Christopher and the rest of MI, "This is Lucy, Loo-ssee," he added for emphasis. "She's with us, she's Time Team….I mean…." He looked quickly between Christopher and Jiya, "Don't any of you recognize her?"

The queasy feeling that had been developing ever since they first exited the Lifeboat settled firmly in his gut, as he saw yet again the blank stares in their eyes. Dropping his hands by his sides he stepped back, looking behind him for answers in the eyes of his team mates, yet finding none.

Agent Christopher circled back again, away from the stairs, and toward the team. "Lucy, is it?"

Lucy nodded slowly.

"Who _are_ you?"

Rufus looked back toward Lucy, noting that she had gone suddenly pale.

"I…." she said nothing more, as Wyatt wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Rufus turned back to find Jiya, staring at him in wonderment from the other side of the computers. There was no doubt in his mind that Lucy's reluctance to respond had nothing to do with not _wanting_ to….but rather having no idea on where to begin, in answer to that question. He was also certain that, given similar circumstance he couldn't have done any better.

Christopher looked again between Rufus and Wyatt, then stepped back toward the stairs again, ducking her head and pinching the bridge of her nose. "You know what? All three of you then—up to the conference room, right now. I'll be there shortly….I've gotta make a call."

Before Rufus had a chance to move, three security guards moved toward the Time Team, drawing their weapons again, and obviously focusing in on Lucy.

"Whoa." said Wyatt, moving to stand between Lucy and the guards. "Not. Necessary. We can get the conference room on our own, thanks; we don't need the Praetorian Guard here—"

Christopher sighed. "Fine, then get going. But the Praetorian Guard _is_ going to follow you, and stand watch outside those doors." She glanced up toward the visible conference room door, "Just so I know you're not going to disappear on me."

* * *

 _A/N pt. 2: This story owes a debt of gratitude to internet search engines—who knows where the hours go while you search things like "time travel paradoxes" and "great riots of American history", and also owes a nod to the tv show Fringe—particularly S4 E5, from which I borrowed both inspiration and some paraphrased lines. I also need to give big thanks to angelwings, for her help—even though she isn't aware of it—as a comment she made in a review for a totally different topic on a totally different fic helped provide me with the key to the plot element that allowed me to bring this whole thing together! I know much of this may all seem somewhat familiar, as I use a couple of themes and ideas here that have appeared in several other fics—but I hope I have successfully combined them in a way that is still original!_


	3. Logic on a Merry-Go-Round

_From Chapter 2:_

 _Christopher looked again between Rufus and Wyatt, then stepped back toward the stairs again, ducking her head and pinching the bridge of her nose. "You know what? All three of you then—up to the conference room, right now. I'll be there shortly….I've gotta make a call."_

 _Before Rufus had a chance to move, three security guards moved toward the Time Team, drawing their weapons again, and obviously focusing in on Lucy._

 _"_ _Whoa." said Wyatt, moving to stand between Lucy and the guards. "Not. Necessary. We can get the conference room on our own, thanks; we don't need the Praetorian Guard here—"_

 _Christopher sighed. "Fine, then get going. But the Praetorian Guard is going to follow you, and stand watch outside those doors." She glanced up toward the visible conference room door, "Just so I know you're not going to disappear on me."_

* * *

Chapter 3: Logic on a Merry-go-Round

Wyatt led the group up the stairs and into the conference room—keeping both Rufus and Lucy in front of him. Once they were in, he followed, slamming the door and shooting a glare at Christopher's guards—now standing directly outside the conference room door with their weapons at the ready—for good measure.

"Uh…." he heard Rufus begin, and he spun back toward him.

"First of all….Praetorian Guards?"

That brought a tiny smirk to his face….he couldn't help it. He motioned with his chin toward Lucy, and she accepted his serve.

"The Praetorian Guard was one of the ancient world's most prestigious military units….charged with protecting the Roman Emperor," she paused, "You know….when they weren't assassinating him."

Rufus shook his head incredulously, looking quickly between both Wyatt and Lucy.

"What?" Wyatt asked, shrugging. But he could feel the smile slipping from his face, as the gravity of their situation came crashing back around him.

"So," Rufus continued, "Secondly….and I can't stress how much I _really_ need an answer for this one…. What the hell is going on here?"

Wyatt blew out a breath, "I don't know—I mean, not exactly. Obviously we changed the timeline….in a pretty major way."

"But how?" asked Lucy. "Seriously. All we did was talk to a bunch of doctors at the Cholera Hospital to remind them how to do their _jobs_ …."

She trailed off and her face fell, he knew that, even now, she was thinking about the children they had seen—waiting outside the doors of the hospital, in the darkness of the night—

"And then we ran away from some Five Points gang members in the middle of the Astor House riot…." She trailed off again, and sat heavily down into one of the chairs. "How could any of that have caused….whatever this is?"

A flash of activity to his side caught Wyatt's attention, and he pulled his gaze away from Lucy, back toward where Rufus was now circling the conference table, pulling out chairs and checking charging ports.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for a tablet…..a phone…..really, I'd take a pager or even an abandoned sticky note right now….anything that could be a source of information! I mean," he slammed his hands down on the table; "I don't even know what _time_ it is!"

Wyatt continued to watch, as Rufus paused in his meltdown, and looked at the three guards standing outside the door.

"Do you think they'd help us out? Get us access to some technology? I mean, they know who _I_ am, right?"

Wyatt looked from Rufus back to Lucy, who was watching their friend with a bemused look on her face. He then moved around the end of the table, to stare through the glass wall at the scene of confusion still going on below them in the docking hangar. Putting his hand against the glass, he looked back toward Rufus.

"No, I don't' think their plan is to help us out, right now."

Rufus looked at him, and then turned back to the guards. He took several steps toward the door, then paused, scanning the hardened faces of the men. Then he drew back, and took a giant step back toward the table, as one of the guards reached for his weapon.

"Yeah….I guess you're right."

Wyatt heard Lucy's voice, almost a whisper, behind him.

"What are we going to do?"

He pulled himself away from the glass, spinning back toward his team, and moved to stand beside Lucy's chair.

Rufus returned to the table and sighed, collapsing into a chair opposite Lucy's. "Look, Christopher will be back soon….should we just wait and ask her?"

Wyatt sighed. "No—we can't trust Christopher."

"What?" he heard Lucy and Rufus say—practically in unison.

"Look—we know that no one here knows who Lucy is." He turned to face Lucy directly. "Christopher—if she's doing her job—she's gonna want to question you, investigate you, imprison you—hell she might just kidnap you and throw you in a black site until some other branch of the government wants to experiment on you!"

He watched the colour drain from Lucy's face. He didn't _want_ to scare her—but she…. _all of them_ ….needed to understand the stakes here.

He saw in his peripheral vision that Rufus had jumped to his feet.

"Wyatt! Maybe you're being just a little too intense about this whole 'everybody's out to get Lucy thing'."

He saw Lucy tip her head to the side then, giving Rufus a knowing half-smile.

Rufus continued, "Maybe tone it down….juuust a little bit?"

"Too intense?" he questioned. _How could they not understand_? "I'm not doing enough—do you guys have _any_ idea….? The government….the military….they don't take well to complete strangers with _detailed knowledge of top-secret intelligence and military operations_ materializing out of thin air!"

Rufus sat down in his chair again, pressing his face against his palms. "Shit."

"Right. I'm not…." he glanced at Lucy again, "I'm sorry—for scaring you," he glanced back at Rufus, "For scaring both of you, but this is the truth of the situation….whatever this situation is. And we need to be prepared. Agent Christopher is going to be back here very soon….and she's not going to be making decisions about what to do next on her own—she'll be following orders from the top—from people who don't know or care about _any_ of us—believe me."

He watched as Lucy picked at the charging plug on the table top. He didn't miss the tremble in her hand. But when she raised her head to meet his eyes, her gaze was like steel.

"Well then….what do we do?"

Wyatt blew out his breath and combed a hand through his hair. "Let's just….focus for a minute. What do we know?"

Rufus shook his head, "We don't know _anything_ , not without access to the 'net or something…."

Wyatt slammed his hand on the table. "Come on! We don't need the internet. You guys are the two smartest people I know, so let's figure this out….let's just….use logic, here."

Wyatt knew his friends were in shock—and he knew that he shouldn't be pushing them like this. But when he raised his gaze from his hand on the table, back to their faces—he saw it. Any previous shock and confusion was gone. And they were ready, they were ready to fight….to figure this out. He nodded his head at them, in appreciation and respect….proud, as always, of his team.

"Well," Rufus began, "We know that every time we jump, we are creating a new timeline, different from before….and when we do our jobs right, the new timeline is pretty much identical to the previous one…."

"So we obviously didn't do our job right, in 1849," said Lucy.

Wyatt cringed inwardly, "Don't go there. No judgement—just logic, remember?"

"Fine. We know that you and Rufus are still time team….and that I'm not."

Wyatt nodded, slowly. "Okay, what else?"

"What do you mean, what else? We don't know _anything_ else," said Rufus.

"Yes, we do. Every little tiny thing could be valuable. Think. What else do we know?"

"Okay, we know that the time team still runs missions, presumably chasing Emma and," Rufus glanced in Lucy's direction, "Emma and Rittenhouse. Because down there in the hangar, Agent Christopher mentioned a mission."

"Right," said Wyatt, having left Lucy's chair and now pacing the length of the conference room with a rapid stride, "And I _think_ there may still normally be a third member of this timeline's Time Team—there's a third seat, after all, and Christopher said something about not liking to break up the band…."

Rufus whistled low. "I missed that….but, _crap_."

Silence hung between the three of them for a moment, and Wyatt watched as Lucy stood from her chair and took up the spot previously occupied by him at the glass, staring at the scene below. Her voice wafted toward him, quiet, but firm. "Well, we know that you two are still pains-in-the-ass."

"What?" he sputtered.

"Yeah, how do we know that?" asked Rufus.

She shrugged, "Christopher clearly said, 'What have you two done _now_.'"

Wyatt sighed, "Fine, you have a point, and I did say every little thing could be important….so what else?"

"We know that Jiya doesn't know Lucy either," offered Rufus.

"Why would she, when no one else knows who she is?"

"I don't know! But, you said _any little thing_ ," he threw his hands up in the air in frustration, "And that's a little thing….Jiya doesn't know Lucy….no one knows Lucy!"

"Oh." Lucy turned and gripped the table top, sliding down into a chair again.

"Luce?" Wyatt rushed to her side. "Are you okay?"

"Yes….I mean no…..I mean…..I guess it's just hitting me…. They don't know who I am. I'm not time team. In their world, in _this_ world…. _you two_ wouldn't even know who I am."

Her voice raised slightly at that statement, and he could sense the growing anxiety within her—this was the definition of being out of control….and he could tell she was beginning to feel it's effects….

So he did all he could think to do in that moment. He put his hand on her shoulder. "But _we_ know you Luce….you're on our Time Team….and that's all that matters—in any timeline."

She looked up at him, with a shaky smile. "But then here, in this timeline, where….where am I now?"

He squeezed her shoulder, "You must not have been selected for the mission…..you're probably back teaching at the University."

"Ah…." Rufus began, "Nooooo….nope. Because, if that were the case….then your head would be turning to jelly and running out your nose, right now."

"What?"

"Because….well, you know….you can't exist in the same universe as another version of yourself."

"Oh, right….that." Wyatt moved then, to perch himself on the arm of a chair that was beside Lucy's. He saw her face tighten as he removed his hand from her shoulder. Frankly—he didn't like losing the contact, either. Contact meant she was real….she was there….and he had no idea how else to tell what was real anymore.

So he slid as close as he could to Lucy, and reached out to grasp her hand. "So….that means…."

Rufus finished his thought. "Lucy doesn't exist."

"Hey—" she said, "I'm right here." Wyatt heard the lightness of her tone, but it was forced, and a quick glance was all it took for him to realize that it hadn't met her eyes.

"I know…." Rufus shrugged. "I just mean….well, it's the only possibility."

He watched as Lucy sat, quietly, in her chair for several heartbeats. Her face was stoic….but her eyes…. He could practically see her heart shattering in the depths of her eyes. And that made him feel adrift, and helpless….and all he could do was take solace in the warmth of Lucy's hand in his….and hope that he was offering her some comfort, in return.

Finally, she spoke. "So, you're saying that, in this world, in this timeline….no one knows who I am….because I don't exist."

Wyatt squeezed her hand again, and Rufus jumped to stand and come around the table, sitting next to her, and grasping her other hand. Wyatt saw the change in her eyes just in time—just before she started to fall forward. He stood so that he was directly in front of her….and let her lean against his chest as she crumpled against him. He held her steady. The three were silent again. He felt her press her head tighter against his shoulder, saw the slight tremor in her shoulders. Rufus caught his eye, and they exchanged helpless looks….there were no easy answers here.

After a moment, she slowly raised her head from his shoulder. He could see that her eyes were rimmed in red, but there were no tears.

"How are you doing?" he asked.

She shrugged, "I just….needed a minute, I think. It's okay now."

"Lucy?" Rufus asked. "What can we do?"

She shrugged, looking at him sadly, then released his hand to run her hand along his arm. "Wyatt's right—the only thing to do is to try and figure this out….to keep moving forward with….whatever this is."

Rufus looks toward door—"Where'd Christopher go, anyway?"

Wyatt straightened again, this time leaving his hand on Lucy's arm—never losing that contact, that comfort.

He sighed, "Oh, you know, probably on the phone with the President—maybe the Secretary of Defense, no biggie." He drew circles on Lucy's arm. "When she comes back….just…. We need to think about what we say….how we answer questions. Maybe, at this point….we don't want to give them too much information. And Luce," he dropped his voice to a whisper, "Remember that you don't have to answer _any_ questions at all….not if you don't want to." He looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. "Even your name….I mean….if they don't know you…."

"The Preston name could be a problem," she finished.

Rufus pushed back in the chair and stood again. Keeping his true focus on Lucy, Wyatt watched him out of the corner of his eye as he now began to pace, where Wyatt himself had been pacing just moments earlier.

"Okay," he began, turning to pace back toward the table, "But this shouldn't be that big a deal, I mean, Christopher _knows_ us…."

"Put yourself in her shoes Rufus," he said, "This is a huge deal, a monster of an intelligence and security problem." And he glanced at the armed guard outside the door. Speaking of which….we need to plan for dealing with the fact that Lucy's probably not safe here…."

"Wait, what?" asked Rufus.

"We can't….just pretend that everyone here wants to help her!"

"Please don't talk about me like I'm not in the room."

He squeezed her arm, reflexively. "Shit, sorry. I just meant…." He sighed, pulling a chair over so that he could sit beside her. "I just mean that….I don't know what's going to happen here. But I _do_ know that I'm not going to let you out of my sight until we figure this out. I promise."

Even with the situation, he felt a warmth flood through him as she raised her eyes to his….eyes filled with trust. She gave him a soft smile, and brought her other hand around to his.

Rufus had paused in his pacing; "Now if the two of you could both just remember that _I'm_ still in the room…."

Wyatt shot him a look.

"Sorry," he said, starting his pacing again, "I'm stressed here. So, if we can't trust Christopher….then how are we going to get any help on this?"

Wyatt sighed. "Look….I _want_ to trust Christopher….and maybe we can, but we just don't know where things are going yet. Until we find out, I think….we need to make it up as we go along," he tossed a gentle smirk at Lucy, "And we probably need to keep our mouths shut," he glanced up at Rufus.

Rufus sighed, but nodded his head in agreement. "Fine, but that puts us back to square one, with figuring this thing out."

"Not necessarily," said Lucy. "We just need to figure out why I don't exist….what happened in 1849 to change…..history."

Wyatt reluctantly released her hand, and stood again. He didn't miss the disappointment in her eyes….he wasn't sure if it was the loss of contact, or just that, as she'd told him several times in the past, his incessant pacing drove her crazy. But it helped him stay calm, stay focused. And that was what he needed….that was what they all needed, right now. "Let's not worry about what we changed in the past, okay? There's no way to know what kind of crazy butterfly-effect thing is going on here."

Rufus leaned against the end of the table, and shook his head, "But then how do we….?"

He raised an eyebrow at his friend. "Let's just go back to thinking logically. What are possible reasons for Lucy to not…."

"Exist?" She finished for him.

He nodded, trying to send an apology her way with just his eyes.

She sat straighter in her chair, looking calm and collected, all vestiges of her previous emotion reaction gone from her face. "Well, presumably….if I don't exist, it's because Carol Preston and Benjamin Cahill never got together."

"Right," nodded Wyatt. "And what could have caused them not to get together?"

"I don't know….maybe one or both of them were with someone else….someone who exists now that didn't before, because of something we changed?"

"Maybe. Possibly. Except…." Wyatt trailed off.

"Except what?" she asked.

"I don't know that Rittenhouse would just be okay with that, you know? They don't seem the type to let things like 'they found someone else' get in the way of—"

"Their breeding program?" said Rufus.

"I was going to say their _plans_ ," said Wyatt, sending another glare in his friend's direction.

"And that would have been much smoother than what I said….sorry, Lucy."

She waved away his apology. "No, it's fine. But then, maybe….."

"Yeah?" asked Rufus.

"Maybe my Mom, maybe she isn't Rittenhouse in this timeline?"

Wyatt nodded, "Definitely a possibility."

"But that might mean….maybe she and Henry still got together…..maybe Amy….."

Wyatt nodded. "As soon as we get access to a tablet, a phone—we'll check it out Lucy, I promise."

Rufus started pacing again, in an opposite direction to Wyatt.

Wyatt paused, and shot his friend a quizzical look. "What's got your mind buzzing now?"

"I'm just thinking….well, maybe it's even further back than that. I mean….what if Lucy doesn't exist because Benjamin Cahill or Carol Preston don't exist….maybe the change happened a generation or two further back…."

Wyatt raised his eyebrows at that. "You mean what if significant changes were made to the genealogies of two top primary Rittenhouse families?"

Lucy shook her head. "Than that would mean Emma would have had to have screwed up the mission, more than we ever could have."

Wyatt nodded. "True….but I guess it is possible."

Rufus shrugged. "But that—that would be one hell of a big whoops, know what I'm saying?"

"Wait," Lucy slid forward on her seat. "If it's _possible_ that Emma screwed up, resulting in the loss of one or more Rittenhouse families…..then don't we _have_ to say that the opposite could also be true?"

"What opposite?" asked Wyatt, not at all comfortable with where she might be going with this.

"That Emma was actually _successful_ in her mission….and that the plan was to…..erase me…..all along. And, all of this," she motioned to the commotion beyond the window, "Wasn't anything we accidentally did, but something she did purposefully?"

He shook his head. "No….I mean….she wouldn't. If anything, she's been trying to change things to bring you back to the Rittenhouse fold, back to Carol, she would never—"

At that moment, the door swung open, and a stern-looking Agent Christopher entered the room.


	4. Reality Checks

_From Chapter 3:_

 _"_ _That Emma was actually successful in her mission….and that the plan was to…..erase me…..all along. And, all of this," she motioned to the commotion beyond the window, "Wasn't anything we accidentally did, but something she did purposefully?"_

 _He shook his head. "No….I mean….she wouldn't. If anything, she's been trying to change things to bring you back to the Rittenhouse fold, back to Carol, she would never—"_

 _At that moment, the door swung open, and a stern-looking Agent Christopher entered the room._

* * *

Chapter 4: Reality Checks

Rufus sat at the computer console directly in front of where the Lifeboat was docked, staring up at the glass wall of the conference room. He could clearly make out Denise Christopher and Lucy sitting at the table….and Wyatt pacing like a caged tiger behind them.

When Christopher had entered the room, she'd announced that it was late—which was at least one piece of information they now had—and that the NSA agents coming to question Lucy wouldn't be here until the next day. He'd watched as Wyatt had nearly imploded at the mention of NSA questioning. He could tell that Wyatt was seconds away from doing….something….even though he wasn't sure what that something was...though no doubt it would have somehow gotten _him_ into trouble—because wasn't that how it always worked? But then Christopher had surprised them all by saying that she still wanted to talk to Lucy tonight. Just the basics, she had assured them. At that point, she had summarily dismissed the two men. Wyatt stood his ground, refusing to leave, and Rufus had followed suit—not really knowing what else to do at that point.

After what seemed like an eternal standoff, he had been blown away when Christopher had relented.

"Fine Logan, you can stay." She had said simply.

And that had left him in a bit of a predicament….since she hadn't mentioned what she expected _him_ to do. But Lucy had suddenly spoken up.

"Rufus—go find out about Amy—please? Get on the internet….find out for me?"

He had agreed immediately and stood to leave, when Christopher had delivered the next blow.

"This whole place is now on black out and lock down—no information in or out to the rest of the world—NSA orders. That means no Wi-Fi, and all cellular service is being blocked. Consider Mason Industries to be firmly embedded in the mid-1980s until further notice."

"What? They can't do that!" Rufus turned back to Lucy, his heart sinking at the look of despondency on her face.

"They can do anything they want," Christopher answered simply. "And the lockdown means that you're all bunking here tonight—good news is that Connor Mason has some quite adequate dormitories in the south wing….everyone will be comfortable."

"Speaking of Connor," he said, "Where _is_ he?"

"Conference in New York."

Rufus spun around at that-shocked that it was Lucy who had answered him.

"In our timeline...he left for New York...just before we left for 1849."

Christopher inhaled sharply. She seemed surprised. _Good for Lucy_. But the Agent quickly regained her composure.

"Yes, Mason is in New York. He's been apprised that the facility is on lock-down, but that all of his employees are safe."

"Rufus," Wyatt said, "Go to the lockers, get changed, grab me some clothes….and start going through our cell phones."

He stared at his friend. Was his over-drive paranoia affecting his hearing? "What good is that going to do, if we can't connect to—?"

"We can still look at photos, documents, anything that's actually downloaded….there still might be something useful."

"Okay," he nodded, "See you soon." He paused at the doorway, noting the guards had apparently been dismissed, then started down the stairs.

* * *

Wyatt had been right, of course. After a shower and changing out of his cholera-hospital-and-Astor-riot-infested clothing, he'd started feeling a little more at ease, a little bit more on firm ground again. He'd felt even better after retrieving his phone. Filled to the brim with pictures of his Mom, and Kevin….and Jiya. One thing was clear-he and Jiya were still he and Jiya. He'd grabbed Wyatt's things as well—but his phone had been completely empty.

So that was when he'd decided to come to this spot….to sit, and think….and stare at the conference room. He had no idea where Jiya had gotten to, but she was obviously somewhere in the building still….and since he couldn't text her...he would sit here, until something happened. After the rush of the jump, and the shock that followed, he knew he'd been running on adrenaline for hours. And now? Now that the adrenaline had faded….he was just feeling….lost.

Until he heard a distinctive and familiar throat-clearing from behind him—Jiya.

"So," she said, pulling up a stool to sit beside him, "This is new."

He nodded his head, a slight smile quirking his lip. "Yeah….that's one word for it."

"I was thinking," she placed her hand on his wrist, "I should probably do a little timeline reality run-down for you….like we sometimes do….just to check for differences…." She smiled at him, then glanced at her shoes. "But, the thing is...now I'm a little afraid of what we'll find out."

He turned to her fully and drew her into an embrace without preamble. "I got everything I needed from the pictures on my phone."

He noted the way she relaxed in his arms almost immediately.

"So in your reality….we're still…."

"I love you."

She nodded, pulling her head back slightly so that she was looking directly at him.

"Good to know."

"Uh…."

"And I love you too."

He smiled, for the first time in hours. "Good."

"So," her gaze lifted to the conference room. "Tell me about Lucy."

"You really don't know her? I mean, not even in a 'seems kinda familiar' or saw her once in a dream' kind of way?"

She shook her head. "No….sorry."

He looked at Lucy, in the conference room. "This is so…." his gaze was pulled back to Jiya, who was glancing between the conference room and and him, chewing at her lower lip. After a moment, she spoke.

"Do I like her?"

He smiled. "Yeah….you do."

He repositioned, so that they were still leaning against each other, but now both could see the drama unfolding in the conference room.

He shrugged, "I mean….that's the thing of it….you guys are…. _friends_. The four of us—we go out, have fun together—when we're not chasin' old Carol through time."

"Carol?" she asked, looking back at him, "Carol who?"

"Please tell me you're joking."

"Not joking."

He glanced up at Wyatt, still pacing beside the glass, remembering his warning about offering too much information. But he couldn't have meant to Jiya….could he? But still, he started carefully. "Who does…. _your_ ….time team chase?"

She looked at him steadily, then eventually responded. "Flynn. Well, Flynn and Emma, his pilot….and a few other goons…."

He exhaled slowly, _well, at least that was something familiar about this situation_. He nodded at her, "Flynn and Emma. Okay, okay….well, Emma is Carol's pilot too….and I know Flynn. I mean, we used to chase him, too."

"Used too?"

"Until we-well, Christopher-caught him."

She was looking at him carefully. So now you chase….

"Carol."

"Carol."

"And sometimes Emma too….sometimes she runs these solo missions that—" _And that was probably too much information_.

He saw her glance down at her feet.

"Listen, Jiya, I know this is super weird, but…."

"But you love me….and we're together?"

"Yes."

She smiled again. "Well then, that's all that really matters."

Hi chuckled lightly, and drew her into another hug. "Yeah."

Eventually, she released the hug. As she pulled back from him, he saw a new question in her eyes. "So what is it?" he asked.

"Well….I know I just said that's all that matters….but it doesn't mean that I'm not curious. "She glanced up again, "Wyatt and Lucy are….?"

"Part of the time team," he shrugged, "They're my time team….my friends….part of my family."

"Not exactly what I was asking about."

"What do you mean?"

She stretched then, pulling herself to stand beside him. "It's just that Wyatt seems-well…."

At that moment, the conference room door flew open, and Wyatt and Lucy started moving down the stairs, Agent Christopher trailing behind.


End file.
